


The Vanessa Vexation

by LulaIsAKitten



Series: First Misses [22]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 20:17:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20606699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaIsAKitten/pseuds/LulaIsAKitten
Summary: So, I have a sort of plan worked out where these last five, V to Z, all happen in the space of one evening, a bit like Q and R did. Or do we think that’s cheating? I’ll try and make them still stand alone strong enough to be read separately, otherwise I’m losing the point of writing little shorts. I just realised the vague plan I had kind of all ties in :)))The rest aren’t written yet...





	The Vanessa Vexation

“So, who do you think is more stubborn and annoying to work for?” Vanessa asked, waving her third glass of wine at Robin.

The two turned in unison to regard their respective bosses, propping up the bar and ribbing one another about their rival football teams, a topic they had moved on to after exhausting the discussion on who had provided more evidence towards solving the case that this evening was supposed to be celebrating.

It had been an impromptu pint. Wardle had declared his intention to head to the pub for a well-deserved drink, Strike had joked about joining him, and suddenly all four of them were leaving Scotland Yard together and heading for the Feathers. One drink had turned to two, and then three. Robin enjoyed Vanessa’s company, she always had. The two of them had watched the banter between the men, grinning and helping stir things a little, and then moved to settle at a table in the window, where they had both agreed that the banter between their bosses held grudging respect on both sides that both would probably deny if questioned.

Robin grinned now, glancing back at Vanessa. “Well, mine is only just still my boss, I’m junior partner now. Fast-track promotion. Whereas yours truly is your boss but can’t promote you? Point to Strike.”

Vanessa put her head on one side. “That’s a positive point, though. I thought we were competing about who’s worse.”

Robin smiled softly. “You know, I like working for Strike. I’ve had some crappy bosses, especially temping, but he’s not one of them.”

Vanessa pulled a face at her. “You big softie. But yeah, Wardle’s not bad to work for either. He’s pretty fair. And he’s never sacked me,” she added, grinning.

Robin pretended to give this serious consideration, nodding. “Yup, okay. Point to Wardle.”

Vanessa thought for a moment. “He makes me tea just as often as I make it for him.”

“So does Strike. They can share that point, then.”

Vanessa laughed. “Um... Wardle drives well? He’s a rubbish passenger, though. Thinks he knows better than me which way to go, especially in inner London.”

“Ah, well, I do all the driving because of Strike’s leg, and he trusts me to get on with it. And supplies toffees.”

Vanessa gave a mock scowl. “Damn. Point to Strike again.” She frowned, concentrating. “Bet Wardle has better taste in music. He goes to see bands and stuff, plays stuff I like in the car.”

Robin nodded ruefully. “I haven’t heard of most of the stuff Strike plays. Wardle can have that point.”

Vanessa grinned. “Ooh, they’re even. We need a tie breaker.”

The two women sat, lost in thought.

Vanessa suddenly chortled. “Got it! Wardle’s better-looking.” She buried her face in her glass of wine, but watched Robin carefully over the rim.

Robin opened her mouth to argue, hesitated and closed it again. She took a swig of wine too to buy herself time, looking across to the men, pretending to consider.

She supposed, objectively, that Wardle was the better-looking, with his straight, unbroken nose, classic features and thick chestnut hair. But—

But she couldn’t argue the case without giving herself away, as well Vanessa knew. She inclined her head, conceding defeat. “Technically,” she said. “If you like skinny guys in uber-trendy jackets.”

Vanessa snorted. “As opposed to overweight ex-boxers who look like they don’t own an iron?”

Robin giggled, her cheeks slightly pink. “I think that’s far enough down that conversational avenue, don’t you? Loo break.” She stood, and Vanessa grinned at her.

“Another? My round.”

“Oh, God, fourth glasses?”

“Go on. The men’ll have another pint, I bet.”

“Okay, but this is definitely the last one.”

Vanessa grinned again and nodded, and picked up their glasses and headed to join the men at the bar, while Robin set off towards the corridor at the back of the pub that led to the toilets.

Robin lingered a little in the ladies’ loos to regain her composure, pat a little cold water on her face, reapply her lipstick. Vanessa was by no means the first friend to test the waters on Robin’s feelings for her boss, especially since her divorce. She supposed people must wonder about the two of them working alone all day. Maybe less so now they had employees. But it was getting tiresome, not least because of the growing feelings towards Strike that Robin was trying to hide. Wardle being better-looking, indeed. Couldn’t Vanessa see Strike’s mesmerising dark eyes, big sexy grin, strong hands—

_Stop it, Ellacott._

She gazed at herself in the mirror and sighed. Back to it. She squared her shoulders, flicked her hair back and marched out of the ladies’, and cannoned right into Strike outside the door, on his way back from the gents’ which was further along.

“Whoa!” He shot out a hand to steady her, and grinned down at her. “In a hurry?”

Blushing, trying not to notice the grin and the eyes and the hands she had just been thinking about (one of which was on her upper arm, his thumb perilously close to the side of her breast), she gasped an apology.

He smiled down at her, a slightly puzzled look in his eye. “Don’t worry about it. I was just teasing. You all right?”

Robin nodded too vigorously. “Just a bit hot, too much wine,” she managed. His eyes were so dark, but so kind, and she couldn’t look away. His hand was still on her arm, resting on her lightly, as though reluctant to move away.

“Ah, we’re celebrating, after all,” he said warmly. “You did loads on this case, Robin. Pretty much everything Wardle grudgingly tried to praise me for, I had to tell him you’d done. Congratulations.”

Robin beamed, pink-cheeked with pleasure at his words, at the thought that he’d told Wardle of her successes rather than taking credit on behalf of the business. She'd worked hard on this one.

Still gazing up at him, caught in his dark eyes, she saw the precise moment the fondness in them changed to something else, something more intense, something that made her breath catch in her throat and her heart beat faster. The heat in her cheeks was suddenly outmatched by heat much further down, pooling low in her body.

Strike’s hand moved just a little, his fingers sliding against the fabric of her sleeve. It was almost a caress, feather-light. His eyes holding hers, he seemed nearer somehow, and Robin was lost, holding her breath, swaying closer—

“There you are!” Vanessa cried, approaching them down the hall. “I thought you must have fallen asleep on the loo!”

Strike dropped his hand from Robin’s arm and stepped around her. He grinned cheerfully at Vanessa. “Your boss bought me another pint yet?”

Vanessa grinned back. “Just paying now.”

Strike nodded and strolled back towards the bar. Vanessa winked at Robin and pushed her way in to the ladies’.

Robin took a couple of slow, calming breaths, willing her fluttering heart to slow down, and followed Strike back to the pub and his conversation with Wardle.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have a sort of plan worked out where these last five, V to Z, all happen in the space of one evening, a bit like Q and R did. Or do we think that’s cheating? I’ll try and make them still stand alone strong enough to be read separately, otherwise I’m losing the point of writing little shorts. I just realised the vague plan I had kind of all ties in :)))
> 
> The rest aren’t written yet...


End file.
